Whitstable

Whitstable served up charm by the bucketful.

We spent a lazy day soaking up the salty air, wandering the coastal path past bobbing yachts, cheerful beach huts, and sweeping sea views that seemed to stretch forever.

Every meal felt like it came with a sea breeze on the side — oysters shucked to order, crispy whitebait, plump prawns, fish so perfect it barely needed a squeeze of lemon… and, of course, the obligatory fish and chips.

Because you simply can’t skip the local chippie in a seaside town. It’s practically law.

And because we all know how I feel about castles (borderline obsessed), Whitstable Castle and its gardens were obviously on the list, right on the seafront between Whitstable town and Tankerton Slopes.

Poor Oliver — dutifully following my lead as I dragged him to yet another castle — somehow survived my obsession (mostly), and even admitted it was worth it. Victory!!